


The Opera Glasses

by ETNMystic



Series: Original Horror Stories [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Mentions of hospitals, mentions of heart problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28730442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ETNMystic/pseuds/ETNMystic
Summary: Alina's anxieties emerge when she can't get ahold of her grandmother to invite her to her BFA showcase, but that ends up being the least of her worries.
Series: Original Horror Stories [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064192
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	The Opera Glasses

This happened almost 2 years ago. I was a music major in college, about to graduate with a BFA in Vocal Performance, specifically in opera, and part of my final grade was to participate in the Senior Showcase. Now despite being a Vocal Performance major, I still got serious stage fright. I would often buckle at the knees and crack on several notes, much to my professors' disappointments. That is, unless my grandma was there. Ever since I was little, my grandma and I had been exceptionally close with one another; she was even the one who got me interested in opera to begin with, as she used to be an opera singer herself. She never missed a single concert or showcase I was in. And when I got into the BFA program, she sent me a bunch of her old music sheets; a lot of the pieces were rather complex, but she told me that she knew I'd be able to handle them. On top of that, she sent me her golden opera glasses, which I used as a good luck charm. That combined with grandma made me feel more at ease on stage.

Once the semester before graduation started, we all got really serious about the showcase. In the past, we'd have the concerts and showcases in the gym to save money. But since we were graduating, it was to be held in an actual theatre, one with velvet seats, balconies, and even private boxes for the graduating students' families to watch in. We'd go in everyday to practice. During our breaks, some of us would joke about how there were ghosts haunting this theatre and how one of us would get kidnapped or something. A few of the students told us that we shouldn't be joking about things like that, but we'd just tell them it was all in good fun.

About a week before the showcase, I decided to call my grandma and tell her about it, as it was super important to me that she'd be there. But when I called, no one picked up. I shrugged it off, figuring that she may have been busy or was taking her meds, as she had some heart problems. I was sure she'd call me back, and if not, I could always try again. 

As the days dwindled down, I kept calling, but I didn't get a response. My anxiety began to climb, and it got to a point where I started drawing blanks on parts of songs I'd had memorized since my first year. What made this even worse was that the showcase was the final grade and the determining factor for graduation. If I didn't pass, I'd be kicked out of the BFA program and I'd have to take the general vocal performance classes BFA students were exempted from. But what made me worry the most was that I'd disappoint grandma.

The night before the showcase, at about 10 pm, I tried calling one last time, but no luck. My anxiety had reached its peak by that point, but that was the pebble in the jar of water that caused it all to spill over. I crumpled to the floor and had a major mental breakdown. Every single worse case scenario slithered its way into the cracks of my mind; combined with all of the stress of memorizing the pieces and this showcase determining whether or not I could graduate, my mind felt as though it was being electrocuted and set ablaze all at the same time. I shrieked and cried out for my grandma, as I felt my heart hurt. My vision was blurring up, and after my heart had an unbearable surge of pain, it all went black.

When I woke up, I was in my bed with a cold wash cloth on my face. The other three girls I lived in the apartment with had heard me shrieking and crying, and then found me passed out on the floor, my head against the side of my desk. The girls suggested that I stay back from the showcase; surely they'd let me do my performance in private. But I was adamant about going. At the very least, my parents could record the showcase and show it to my grandma later.

The next day, I got on the outfit I'd planned to wear, and grabbed my music sheets and the golden opera glasses. I drove with some of the other graduating students to the theatre where we warmed up and made sure we had everything ready. I briefly peeked through the curtains before the show began. The house was absolutely packed. I looked in the box reserved for my family. I saw mom and dad, but there was no sign of grandma. I began to panic and had to sit down and hug the opera glasses. 

What made the showcase even more agonizing was that I was the very last one to perform, so the anxiety had plenty of time to blossom. In the meantime, I held onto those opera glasses like they were the last remnants of some past life I had. Just before it was my turn, I had to use the bathroom and when I got back, the opera glasses were gone! I anxiously asked everyone if they'd seen them, but no one had any clue, and soon it was my turn. My heart was trying to break out of my chest, but I couldn't turn back. 

Walking out onto the stage, I took out my sheet music and gave it to the pianist before taking my place in the spotlight. As the keys began to play, I took a deep breath, praying that things wouldn't end too badly. The first few verses made me cringe. I could hear the tremble in my voice and I kept going into my head voice, so my singing was extremely breathy. Panicking I looked over at my family's box, and what I saw changed everything.

It was grandma!

She was in the seat of the box that was closest to the stage, holding a pair of opera glasses and smiling. My anxiety began to dissipate and was replaced with hope and relief. And from that point until the end of my set, I sang my heart out, and even got a standing ovation!

After the show was over, we went backstage to wait for our feedback session. I decided to get my things ready so that I could go see grandma as soon as possible. There I found the opera glasses. When I picked them up, they felt warm, so I knew they'd been used. Underneath them was a note in purple ink.

_"Sorry about taking them. I wanted to be able see you shine as brightly as possible. No matter what happens, I want you to know that I'm so proud of you, Alina. Love, Grandma."_

Tears flowed down my face in joy. It felt like I'd only looked at them for a minute before I was called in for critiques. I was told that, aside from the first few verses of the first song and some small nitpicks, it was one of the best performances they'd ever seen. I was given a 95 out of 100, and that meant I could graduate with my BFA degree! Finally, all of the hard work, anxiety, and stress had paid off and I couldn't thank the professors enough. 

Once I'd gathered my things, including the opera glasses and the note, I rushed out to look for grandma, but the only ones from my family that I could see were my parents. I went over to them and they decided to take me out for dinner to celebrate. On the way back to my apartment from the restaurant, I decided to talk to them about where grandma was.

"Were you the ones who told grandma about the showcase?" I asked as we turned into the complex parking lot.

They looked confused.

"We didn't," my dad said.  
"Why?"

"Because I saw her in the front row of the box during my set," I replied as my dad took the keys out of the car.

It all went silent. I could tell that my parents were nervous, and a chill began to collectively circulate through us.

"Mom? Dad?" I asked nervously.  
"Why didn't you see grandma?"

After a few more moments of haunting silence, I heard a collective sigh from up front. 

"Honey....we didn't want to tell you until after the showcase," my mom said.

"Tell me what?" I gulped.

My dad sighed.

"Your grandma had a heart attack just over a week ago."

All of the color in my face disappeared completely. A heart attack at grandma's age was often dangerous, but I tried to stay calm; my grandma was a tough woman, after all. She'd survived heart attacks before.

"But....but she's gonna be okay, right?" I asked with weakening hope.  
"Right?"

My parents gave each other a grim look, and I knew what was coming.

"She passed away, Alina," my mom told me.

Fear and grief overtook my body. My best friend was gone from this earth. The one who got me to pick the major of something I'd had a deep love for since childhood, gone forever. But then something struck me.

"Wh-when did she......? Wha---what time.....?" I began, my voice trailing off.

"The doctor said that she passed away last night at around 10 pm."

At that moment, it all flooded back to me. The mental breakdown I'd had the night before, me crying out for grandma, me blacking out when my heart surged in a flash of agony. Was it the universe telling me she died? 

And there was still something that didn't make sense. The opera glasses felt warm when they'd reappeared, and then there was the note. My grandma had a very unique style of writing, one that was nearly impossible to replicate. Taking the note out of my pocket, I thoroughly checked it over multiple times. Part of me wishes I hadn't, though, because when I ran into my apartment and compared it with other letters and notes she'd sent me, there was no doubt about it.

That note under the opera glasses was indeed my grandma's handwriting. 


End file.
